


Untitled (How Does It Feel?)

by HeartEyesTurner



Category: Arctic Monkeys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23958457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartEyesTurner/pseuds/HeartEyesTurner
Summary: Do you ever wonder what Alex does when he has the whole day to himself? I do...
Kudos: 3





	Untitled (How Does It Feel?)

> It’s Sunday morning and he’s all alone and lazy in his bed. Sheets soft and warm in the sun peeking through the cracks in the shades. He wakes up in the mood for it, lying naked under the covers, his hand tracing down his stomach and his abs, drifting along his v-lines. And he’s smiling to himself, eyes closed so he can concentrate on the way everything feels. The house is quiet and still, barely any sounds save for the birds outside his window.
> 
> He caresses his inner thighs and his balls, the back of his hand brushing against his cock. He sighs, little whimpers and moans escaping his perfect lips. He licks them as he feels himself start to get hard. He uses both of his hands, fondling himself gently at first to tease. He kicks the covers away, head pressed into the pillow, hair sprawled out like a halo. Everything about him is warm and soft, except for the cut of his jaw and the sharp angle of his nose. The sun catches him, bathing him in soft white light.
> 
> All the muscles in his body are straining as he grasps his cock, feeling the blood rush, loving the way it gets so hot and thick in his hands. His stomach muscles tighten, his abs clenching as he arches his spine a little. He bites his lip in the early stages, teasing and going slow. He keeps his eyes open now, because it arouses him even more to watch himself, the way his fist wraps around, fingers tight; the pretty pink head of his cock slipping through the top of his fist. 
> 
> His favorite part is when that first bit of cum leaks from the tip, and he groans, raising his hips into his hand. His strokes become slower, but tighter, and he tugs hard, gathering his cum and spreading it over the length of his cock. His moan is deep and guttural, animalistic and low like a growl as he teases himself. Whenever he feels like he’s starting to get close, he stops, his touch light because he doesn’t want it to end just yet. He could do this all morning and he probably will. He squeezes the base of his cock, prolonging the sensation, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He’s too excited. As usual. 
> 
> He uses just his fingers to gingerly caress the head, palming it gently, his hips arching once more because the feeling makes him shiver. He presses one of his hands to his lower abdomen, feeling the soft, sensitive skin here. This combined with the long, lazy strokes of his other hand up and down his impressively thick cock is starting to turn him on again. He’s so sensitive and so fucking desperate to cum; to feel that release, needs it all over his stomach and chest. 
> 
> His eyes shimmer, sweat cascading down his forehead in beads, watching his cock slide between his fingers, all slippery with his arousal. He varies his pressure, hard, gentle, soft, rough. He’s so fucking hard it hurts, and he wants it; snapping his wrist faster, quicker, until he’s crying out, thrusting his hips into his hand as he cums all over his stomach. His body shudders as he let’s go and he shakes, his hand slowing as he squeezes every last bit out; always teasing. 
> 
> He waits, relaxing and taking deep breaths as he caresses his torso, waiting until he gets aroused again. He doesn’t have a very long recovery, still young, still in tune with his own body. He scratches at the tops of his thighs, digging in and trying to get himself hard again without really touching his cock. He strokes himself everywhere, watching with fascination as his dick moves, twitching at the feel of his own fingertips. He licks his lips, watching the colors change from soft pink to dark pink almost purple, thick and heavy with desire. He could try something different this time… flip over and drape his body over one of the many pillows covering his bed…
> 
> Hmm…
> 
> He reaches for a pillow and rolls over onto it, his ass in the air as he adjusts it under his hips. Fuck. The feel of the fabric against his cock is enough to make him lose it already, and he stills. When he’s composed enough, he lifts his upper torso, holding himself up on his arms, the veins tight and twisting up his muscles. He smirks, secretly pleased with the idea of what he must look like. And he begins to grind his hips, rutting into the pillow. 
> 
> He’s all groans. He can’t stop. It feels too good. 
> 
> “Fuck…” He mutters, forgetting how good this felt. The last time he’d done this was probably back when he was a teenager; stifling his moans as he humped a pillow beneath his covers so no one could hear him. He used to cum quick then, too quick; didn’t really know how to make it last. 
> 
> He’d gotten better since then. _Much_ better. His hips angled sharply, grinding and rocking back and forth, too enraptured by the way the fabric rubbed against him to think of anything but himself. He could feel the dampness beneath him with each move, how his precum was seeping into the fabric, and it was all soaked with his sweat. There was a slight breeze through the cracked window and it tickled his skin, gave him the chills. He hung his head between his shoulders, watching himself, the purple head of his cock disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of his hips. He sunk down lower, rutting deeper and harder, feeling that familiar tug in his stomach. He was gonna cum again, and he didn’t want to prolong it this time; it felt too good to stop. 
> 
> His moans were strangled as he jerked and tensed, bringing himself to the brink before he pushed himself up onto his knees and pressed his hand to his lower abdomen, his other hand tangled in his hair, pulling it upwards. He watched his cock twitch, the way the vein in it pulsed and throbbed, and he waited, letting the sensations take over his body. He didn’t want to touch, he wanted to watch. He gently stroked his stomach, teasing and coaxing until he was there, and he struggled to keep his eyes open, to watch as he came, his release shooting up and dripping from his cock with each thrust of his hips. He panted, mesmerized by the way it spurted out, the way it dribbled, trickling down his cock and onto the pillow. He exhaled deeply, smirking at having successfully cum so fucking hard back-to-back. 
> 
> He needed that. 
> 
> His breaths were hot and heavy in the comedown, and he sat back on his heels, watching his cock soften, his fingertips gently caressing it, inhaling sharply at it’s sensitivity. He closed his eyes, feeling drained, but wanting more. He was hooked. The alone-time was few and far between these days and he craved the intense feeling of orgasming from the touch of his own hands.
> 
> “Just fuckin’ give it a second, Al…” He murmured, willing himself to relax. “Yeh’ve got all day…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can also [find me on Tumblr](https://hearteyesturner.tumblr.com/).


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